


Beyond Dreams

by huldrejenta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_silencio, Dreams, Fighting for the snitch, Flying, M/M, No Dialogue, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4965697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huldrejenta/pseuds/huldrejenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fighting for the Snitch can sometimes be more than they ever imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [hp_silencio](http://hp-silencio.livejournal.com/) 2015 on LiveJournal, which is a dialogue free challenge. 
> 
> : : :

In dreams, he always caught the Snitch.

In dreams, the steady thrum of magic hiding inside the broom was his to do with as he pleased. In dreams, the air around him would bend to his will from the moment his feet kicked off the ground. And it was quiet. Only the heady rush of flight would echo in his ears.

He never saw their faces. His opponent Seeker remained in the fog. Grey. Blurry. Insignificant. What mattered was the Golden Snitch, searching for it, looking for nonexistent patterns in the way it flew, stopped, hovered. What mattered was the wild chase. What mattered was the thrill of success.

The only face he could see in his silent, nocturnal world was Potter’s. Harry Potter was always the exception.

In dreams, Draco got there first. Potter would fight him for it, fierce and untamed, his flying more frantic with every heartbeat, the grip on his broom ever more unyielding, tiny drops of sweat dripping down the nape of his neck. The two of them got lost in the surge of flying. Intoxicated. And in the end, Draco would always catch the Snitch. 

Draco’s night time dreams were plentiful and did not always include the Snitch. They created a sundry web of colourful fabric, diverse and radiant. His dreams had always been that way. Some nights they designed a shield against the morning light. Other nights they were a sail with which to catch the tailwind.

But dreams were not real. He had a habit of choosing the unobtainable ones. The dreams that crumbled when daylight fell upon them. He was an expert on those.

Some dreams, though... the dreams about flying and searching and fighting and catching? They were real. Sunlight would shine upon them, raindrops would land upon them, and they were still solid. Tangible. He recognized the rush from his dreams. It was still there, just as mind-blowing. This was happiness. The kind of happiness that made his breath hitch. The kind of happiness that made adrenalin shoot electric jolts through his belly.

No one flew like Draco Malfoy. No one owned the art of flying, no one understood the flow of the wind or read every nuance of the air like he did. He could sense the Snitch. This was his game. Catch the Snitch or die trying. And in the end, he caught it.

Except –

There was always an exception. And the exception was always Harry Potter.

In dreams, the wind and the magic carried him through sharp turns and feral dives, faster, faster. Flying with wild abandon. Meeting Potter’s smirk with one of his own. Getting to the Snitch first? Two could play that game. In dreams, his euphoria was uncontainable when he stretched out his arm, when his hand reached for the Snitch, and he was the one, the first one to get there. Hello, elation. Goodbye, Harry Potter.

In dreams, it was easy. Smooth.

During the day, it was –

Anything but.

Against someone else, he would forget who he was in the thrill of the fight. They were just two Seekers, nameless, blank, focusing only on strength and skills and the will to win.

Against Potter, they were first and foremost Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Nothing was more important than that. He never gave more of himself in any other fight. He never flew wilder, faster. He never abandoned the principles of flying or bent magic beyond the realms of what was possible to do as much as when he fought Potter.

And in the end he always lost. Always.

That was before.

Now –

Now, it’s different.

Not all of it. Some things remain the same, even years after Hogwarts, years after _Slytherin_ and _Gryffindor_ and _us_ and _them_. Years after supposedly becoming an adult.

Flying is still all about bending magic to his will. Fighting for the Snitch still means defying the laws of magic and sensing what can’t be sensed. He’s still the best when he plays.

And there’s still one exception. The exception is still Harry Potter.

With Potter, the best fights happen when it’s just the two of them. No audience to show off to, no team to worry about, just two young men kicking themselves off the earth and into the welcoming air. Leaving behind all noise and every demand, escaping into silence.

Somewhere down the line, fighting with Potter had changed. Draco knew Potter, had always known Potter, and somewhere down the line, brushing against Potter’s hand gave him a wilder rush than touching the Snitch ever had.

And then, one day, Draco had won. He’d caught the Snitch. Potter’s gaze fell into Draco’s for that split second it took to wrap greedy fingers around the golden sphere, and that gaze didn’t leave him again, not that day and no day afterwards. No night afterwards. And Potter was no longer Potter. He was Harry.

In dreams, he no longer fights Harry to prove that he can.

Now, Harry is real and here and his.

They fly whenever they can get away. They fly for the fight. The thrill. The heady rush of fighting this man is as dizzying as ever. 

Sometimes, they fly in the night. In the hour just before dawn, when dreams and reality lean towards each other, when the lines between them are blurred. Foggy. Invisible.

Together, they fly through soft summer rain, heavy with silence. They fly into the high skies of frosty winter. Together, they fight each other like they always have. They know, and they catch the Snitch together, even if it’s only one of them who wraps his hand around it.

The whole thing is impossible. Inconceivable. But it’s happening, and it’s theirs. And it is better than any dream.

It doesn’t dissolve when he wakes up.

In dreams, he fought to win. To be the sole victor. 

So many things are different now.

But the biggest difference is that now

– now, no matter how passionate their fight has been. No matter how heated their chase is. Draco knows that the biggest rush is yet to come, after the Snitch is caught.

In dreams, catching the Snitch proved he could do anything.

Now, one silent look at Harry shows him he’s got nothing to prove. He already has it all.


End file.
